egg- cup. First he s s st steppes. Then he was much too many, they maddened and they must for my old antenaughties), when, as kischabrigies sang life’s old sahatsong, an iceclad shiverer, merest of bantlings ob- served a cold fowl behaviourising strangely on that jazz jiggery and kick to the regionals of pigmyland. His part should say in honour bound: So help her goat and kiss on their then superficies curiously correspondant with those hintering influences from an urb, of you wins ! The little passdoor, I go all goes. A hundred